The Memory of Rain

The rain descends. The city is bleak. The fog has crawled in to cover the skyline. I look toward the horizon. It is the same as yours. I look for the sun but it is hidden in the greyness. In the sadness. At night we view the same moon. The stars watch over us. I…

The Six Types of Writers

I know I fall into a mixture of these types of writer. Where do you fall? Give Quintessential Editor's post a read. On a nerd level, it resonates with me. On a writer's level, it made me laugh. I stumbled across the above image on Twitter today and felt it was too hilarious to not share.…